


Quiet Evening

by under_a_linden_tree



Series: under_a_linden_tree's prompt ficlets [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_a_linden_tree/pseuds/under_a_linden_tree
Summary: In which Aziraphale and Crowley share a quiet evening together at the bookshop, basking in the comfort of being silent with each other.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: under_a_linden_tree's prompt ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755112
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58





	Quiet Evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MovesLikeBucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/gifts).



> Thanks to bananaquit for beta-reading!

Aziraphale is diligently putting on a record, which can only mean one thing: They will be staying in tonight, enjoying a quiet evening just between the two of them, with no place to go and nothing to do.

The mellow notes of Smetana’s  _ The Moldau _ begin to wash over the bookshop, the ring of gentle flutes mingling with bright clarinets, as the angel carefully hangs his coat on the clothes rack, exchanging it for the soft woolen cardigan that he usually wears around his home. He peruses the shelves by the cash register for the specific book he wants to re-read, all the while feeling Crowley’s tender gaze on him.

The demon is settled in his usual spot on the sofa, sprawled across the throw blankets and pillows with his legs dangling off the seat and socked feet barely touching the floor. He glances at Aziraphale over the screen of his phone, a gentle smile gracing his face. Aziraphale can’t help but mirror it before returning his attention to the volumes on his shelf, tenderly running a finger over the titles until he reaches the one he wants to read. He puts down his book on the armrest of the sofa and runs his hand through Crowley’s hair as he considers where to settle. He doesn’t want to force Crowley to move, so he makes his way to the plush chair by the back room, humming along with the music as he goes. He lifts its weight with ease and settles it on his hip, only stumbling a little with the unwieldiness of it. Crowley’s grin grows even wider and the way it curls around the corners of his mouth and makes his unguarded eyes sparkle warms Aziraphale’s heart.

He sets down the armchair right next to the sofa so he can be close to him while he reads. Crowley picks up the book and hands it over to Aziraphale when he’s settled in, then rests his head where the novel laid just a moment earlier. It’s an excellent place to watch the angel as he carefully flips through page after yellowed page, to see the gentle lines on his forehead as he concentrates on the text. For a few moments, Crowley simply looks at him, enjoying the fact that he can, here in their own quiet little bubble of happiness. When he feels content for the time being, he returns to the news he was scrolling through earlier.

Ten minutes pass in silence except for the violins and winds imitating a rushing river, then there’s a moment of static noise and the music shifts to a soft Mozart sonata. Aziraphale smiles; he’s always liked that particular piece. At first, he doesn’t even notice that he is tapping his foot along with the gentle piano tunes, not until the next sonata comes on.

The evening continues in silence as Aziraphale reads and Crowley mindlessly scrolls through a number of articles. After a while, Crowley puts his phone aside and Aziraphale feels a subtle nudge. He glances over to the sofa and finds the demon’s open hand on the rest, palm raised in offering. Aziraphale smiles and takes it, interlacing their fingers. Gently, he runs his thumb over Crowley’s knuckles, feeling the roughness of his skin and caressing it nonetheless.

He can almost feel the relaxation that washes over Crowley at this tender touch. It makes him smile for a moment, then he presses a quick kiss to the back of Aziraphale’s hand, returning the smile. He pulls up his legs onto the sofa, loosely curling up on his side so he can rest his head next to their joined hands more easily. Seeing him here so calm and quiet makes Aziraphale smile. He loves their evenings in, when they can just  _ be  _ with each other without any expectations or obligations.

Aziraphale puts the book aside for a moment and bends down to unlace his shoes swiftly and quietly. Crowley raises his head lazily, watching as Aziraphale places his shoes next to the armchair and moves his feet up to the seat, neatly tucking them under his thighs before resuming his reading. Crowley presses a quick kiss to his cheek and another to his knuckles before returning to his former place on the armrest.

A moment later, Crowley notices a gentle weight against his head. Aziraphale’s soft curls are nestled against his, and he can feel the deep, slow breaths that indicate the angel is completely at ease with himself and the world.

If they fall asleep together later, when the final tunes of a Beethoven piece fade into silence - well, that is none of our business, since this is their very own happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MovesLikeBucky's prompt "quiet evening in the bookshop, told with zero dialogue only with body language and introspection". I hope it meets your expectations ^^


End file.
